Still Lolo

by Lauren Scruggs

  I saw that if I chose to let the accident ruin me, it would. But I was deciding to make the accident work for me. I came to see how there was so much more to my life than being worried about how I looked. With new resolve, I wanted to do something different with my life. I wanted to serve God in new ways, give to others with new depth, and help people more than ever be inspired to live out loud. This little third grader—his coolness, his honesty, his acceptance—gave me fresh courage to keep going in this new direction.

  My accident has led me to ask—and hopefully begin to answer—one final question: how can my life be used for something bigger than me? When Joshua first told me that I would be a warrior someday, I just didn’t see it. And for the most part, I still don’t feel it. But something Sheri told me after a grueling therapy session one day has stuck with me: “Despite some moments of weakness—which obviously are completely normal—you have been a warrior.”

  Maybe my mistake had been assuming that warriors are fearless, tough, and unbeatable. I’ve come to realize that warriors aren’t invincible; they’re just strengthened and energized by hope. For a while after the accident, I lost hope. But slowly, I’ve come to see the truth in something I heard at church the night of the accident: “You are hardwired for hope. . . . You’re always attaching the hope of your heart to something.”

  I now know that my appearance, guys, and professional success don’t provide lasting security. If I place all my hope in them, I’m bound to be disappointed. Christ alone will never fail me; in fact, in many ways, my recovery has been truly miraculous.

  That’s not to say I’m any less passionate about my work. In fact, Shannon and I launched a refreshed version of LOLO Magazine in September that focuses on the topics of fashion, food, and fitness. After studying which elements of the site were viewed most often, we decided to concentrate our coverage on those areas.

  God is also opening doors so that I can begin to speak publicly to people about my experiences. In particular, I am passionate about encouraging young girls to put their hope in Christ, rather than in their appearances. Most of all, I want to be a living testimony to the truth that suffering may strip a lot from you and me, but it doesn’t need to steal our hope.

  Epilogue

  The Scruggs Family

  It’s been an incredible year for our family.

  Incredibly difficult, and yet incredibly good.

  People wonder how we can say that—how, looking back, we can say in all honesty that the year has actually been good. And in some ways the larger answer is something we’re still forming within ourselves and working to articulate, although we already know deep down it’s true.

  Of course, the undeniably best part is that Lauren has been fully returned to us. There’s seldom a moment that passes when we don’t remind ourselves that she so easily could have died or never been the same again. She sustained major injuries to her brain, left eye, face, left arm, and clavicle. Her doctors continue to be amazed by her progress, and we are convinced that her healing is completely miraculous.

  The fantastic news is that today she’s still who she always was to us. She’s “still LoLo.”

  Yet there’s no doubt we continue to grapple with deep emotional pain. Adjusting to our new normal isn’t always bad, however; sometimes it forces us to lighten up. Adjusting to her prosthetic arms, as you know, hasn’t always been easy for Lauren. Just a few weeks after getting her new workout arm, Lo put it on for a sparring session with Stewart. As they were bobbing and weaving, she didn’t notice that her left arm was sweating under her prosthesis. As she did a roundhouse kick, her workout arm flew halfway across the turf. After a moment of stunned silence, the two of them cracked up.

  Our emotions tend to surprise us like that. We can be up one moment and then sucker punched the next by another wave of grief or sadness. At such times, Jeff often opens his Bible and reads the words of David, the Jewish shepherd boy and warrior who was pursued for over a decade by an insanely jealous king. Out of his own dark experience, David wrote: “I sought the LORD, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears. . . . The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:4, 18). That is the truth we choose to hang on to when our feelings threaten to drag us down into despair.

  We’ve also found that when we are open and honest about the struggles we go through, it can be an encouragement to others—and they will be open and honest and encourage us in return. Bernie is a young man Lauren met at the arm prosthetics center. He’s a few years older than Lauren and lost his hand a few years back. They can totally relate to each other because they’ve experienced all the same emotions. He’s been a great encouragement. Tom is Lauren’s age and lost his hand wakeboarding. He and Lauren e-mailed back and forth for a while, grateful to be able to talk with someone who’s been through the same thing.

  Bethany Hamilton has also been an inspiration to our family. Shortly after leaving the hospital, Lauren watched Soul Surfer for the first time, the movie about how at age thirteen Bethany lost her arm to a shark while surfing. We don’t know many people who would have gotten back in the water following a shark attack, but Bethany did. Today she’s a professional surfer.

  A few months after Lauren had seen the movie, Bethany and her mom contacted us just to say hello, and she and Lauren have talked several times since via Skype. It’s been more than eight years since Bethany’s accident, and she’s learned a lot of practical things about dealing with life since then. Even little things. Once, while she and Lauren were on Skype, Bethany put her hair back in a ponytail with her one arm. Lauren asked how she could do that, and right then, Bethany gave her a lesson. The two texted and e-mailed back and forth, and they finally met in person for the first time in early June 2012. Bethany’s genuine joy and the way she has faced her fears and returned to the sport she loves have influenced Lauren immeasurably.

  At the same time, we never want to minimize the genuine pain that accompanies hard times—the pain we’ve been through (and are still going through—it’s not over yet) and the suffering that so many others experience. Pain is pain. It can be stark and agonizing, and it’s never welcomed. One thing we’ve learned this year is how to identify in new and real ways with people experiencing pain. We are so desperately aware that we’re not the only ones who’ve gone through something traumatic, and there are a lot of people throughout the world who have experienced far worse things than we have.

  Lauren’s story is just one among so many others that could be written. This book is dedicated not only to the people who have supported us, but to the greater community of people worldwide who are hurting and caring for those who are hurting, to people everywhere who are struggling with missing limbs and missing eyes, to everyday heroes who fight to keep going forward.

  Without a doubt we can say that what has brought us through this time of suffering has been our faith. We could not have made it through this year without Jesus Christ as our rock and anchor. One of the questions we consistently get asked is “Why?” If there’s a God and he loves us, why would he allow this to happen?

  Do we have an answer for this?

  No.

  We have textbook answers maybe. That God does indeed love everybody, and yet he allows some bad things to happen for reasons only he knows.

  In all honesty, though, we still don’t know why God in his sovereignty allowed Lauren to experience this accident, and we may never know for certain. But we trust in God’s goodness anyway. We walk by faith, not sight, and someday everything is going to make sense. But for this one day, today, all we know to do is trust in God.

  Paul David Tripp, the author and pastor who spoke at our church the night of Lauren’s accident, has helped us gain a better perspective through his book Forever. He points out that when times are good, it’s easy to avoid the hard questions:

  We all ask questions, and we all search for answers. At times, not knowing and not understanding doesn’t bother us because we are locked in our
busy schedules, distracted by the details of life or thankful that our life is comfortable at the moment.

  That’s where Lauren and our family were at the beginning of December 2011. LOLO Magazine was taking off; Jeff and Cheryl had a thriving ministry; and Shaun and Brittany were happily settling down into married life.

  Then in an instant, everything changed—including our outlook on pain. “At other times,” Tripp writes, “not knowing is painful and scary because we are facing something we can’t ignore but are unable to make sense of.”19

  That’s how we felt after the accident happened. Tripp continues:

  When you see things around you as permanent, they take on too much importance and increase your sense of loss when they are taken away. If you mistakenly think that life is only about who has the biggest pile of possessions and pleasures in the here and now—if you have eternity amnesia—then suffering becomes all the more painful and seems all the more unfair.20

  Exactly. As we battled our fears and watched Lauren undergo unrelenting pain, we came face-to-face with our utter powerlessness and the sense that God is often hard to find in the darkness. And yet, somehow, in the midst of our stumbling and groping and groaning, we finally realized that God had never been absent—he had been there all along, offering us a living hope and a perspective that is much wider than this present life. As Tripp points out, “Because of Christ’s amazing grace and his presence . . . we are never . . . left to live inside the boundaries of our own resources.”21

  We’ve realized how easy it is to view pain as only a negative thing. We tend to think life should go as we have personally planned it. Yet strength forms in the midst of suffering and battle. The seventeenth-century theologian François Fénelon said, “If you push the cross away, your circumstances will become twice as hard to bear. In the long run, the pain of resisting the cross is harder to live with than the cross itself.”

  Chris Crawford reminded us recently that his most successful and fun days in life have seldom helped to grow his character. But the times of deep pain and struggle have grown him extensively. In that sense, even the days that feel so difficult can be gifts.

  What’s one thing we hope Lauren’s story shows?

  Simply that people can grow through adversity. Hardship is part of life. We all experience it to one degree or another. Yet hardship doesn’t need to break us. Particularly when we trust in God, who sees the overarching plan for our lives. We trust that somehow each experience we go through will mysteriously—and sometimes only ultimately—work together for good.

  In the meantime, we try to live each day with healthy doses of love and laughter, which seem to get us through the most awkward of times. Not long ago Cheryl and Lauren flew into Corpus Christi to meet Bethany Hamilton, who had invited them to attend her speaking engagement there. Cheryl and Lauren first met Bethany and her mom, Cheri, over lunch. They assumed that after their meal, Bethany would want to leave to prepare for her talk that night. Instead, Bethany and her mom told them they planned to spend the whole day with them—including a trip to the nail salon.

  Cheryl and Lauren were so grateful to talk to another mother and daughter who knew where they were, who could rejoice that Lauren’s life had been spared while understanding the stages of grief and pain our family is still walking through. In the midst of all the serious conversation, there was plenty of laughter, too.

  When they arrived back in Dallas the following evening, Cheryl and Lauren were reinvigorated. Life felt almost normal again. As they dragged their luggage behind them through the airport, they passed a coffee shop. They decided to stop and pick up some drinks to enjoy on their ride home. Cheryl ordered while Lauren went to the restroom.

  Cheryl smiled at the barista as she set their steaming cups of coffee on the counter. Then Cheryl glanced at their pile of bags and purses. Her heart sank.

  As often happens when Cheryl is reminded of Lauren’s injuries, her mind went back to the moments just after the accident when she first saw Lauren lying on the tarmac, not yet knowing whether she was even alive. It hit her once again how completely their lives had changed.

  Yet this time, Cheryl remembered the courage and wisdom she’d seen in Bethany the day before. Lauren’s life isn’t over, she thought. This is just our new normal.

  “Lo,” Cheryl said, as Lauren walked back to her, “we’ve got a bit of an issue. How are you and I ever going to carry these bags to our car now that we’ve got these coffees, too? Know where we might be able to find an extra hand?”

  Cheryl and Lauren stood there silently for a minute, looking from their luggage to their coffee cups to each other. Suddenly they both let out belly laughs. Cheryl couldn’t stop smiling as she went back to the counter to ask for a cardboard drink carrier. A few minutes later they were on their way to the parking garage. From there they would head straight to Brittany and Shaun’s house, where our whole family would celebrate Father’s Day together over dinner.

  It’s true that the accident changed some things forever. Life for our family isn’t the same. But it isn’t over, either—not by a long shot.

  Acknowledgments

  This is the crux of the story: the outpouring of pure love, sincere service, and indescribable comfort we have experienced since December 3, 2011.

  First and foremost, we want to praise our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. We are thankful beyond words for God’s protection and provision.

  We want to thank everyone who, at the beginning, offered themselves in ways we didn’t know about—and still don’t.

  We want to express our immense gratefulness to all of you who went out of your way to strengthen us. The gospel came alive through your service.

  All of you are a revealing of God’s love. It was through this beauty amidst the trial that we experienced our ideal of biblical community. We always knew its significance, but now we have seen its pure reality.

  We were falling apart, and friends were there to catch us. We didn’t even realize where we were going to slip, and people placed themselves in front of us to keep us from falling.

  Fellowship came alive like we have never seen before. What a transparent time when everyone generously used their distinct gifts of leadership, wisdom, business, discernment, and mercy to step in, instilling peace over us amidst our helplessness.

  These words from the song “Never Once,” written by Jason Ingram, Matt Redman, and Tim Wanstall, represent our hearts of gratitude: Scars and struggles on the way, but with joy our hearts can say. . . . Never once did we ever walk alone.22

  We struggled writing the acknowledgements because there are so many people to thank, and we don’t want to miss anyone. We want to thank:

  The “first responders” to the accident

  The CareFlite team

  All those at the accident site who were not first responders or part of the CareFlite crew

  The pastors, friends, and community at our home church, the Village Church, who not only prayed but came to the hospital the night of the accident

  The staff and friends at Prestonwood Baptist Church

  The staff and friends at Bent Tree Bible Fellowship

  Other communities at local churches

  People and churches all over the world who joined in praying for us and serving us

  The teams of doctors and all involved at Parkland Memorial Hospital and Zale Lipshy University Hospital

  The entire team at Tyndale House Publishers

  Our collaborator, Marcus Brotherton, and our researcher, Matthew Weeda

  Greg Johnson from WordServe Literary

  A. Larry Ross Communications

  Our extended family

  All of our friends

  Close friends who stood in the gap and took over all the different aspects of our lives

  All those that brought meals for over ten weeks

  Those friends who coordinated the meals

  All those who prayed and are still praying

  All those who sent cards and gifts<
br />
  All those who sent other types of correspondence: phone calls; e-mails; and Facebook, Twitter, and CaringBridge messages

  The CaringBridge ministry

  All those we know and don’t know who planned fundraisers and blood drives

  Those still walking closely with us

  Baylor Institute of Rehabilitation

  Athletes’ Performance for their physical therapy and training

  Advanced Arm Dynamics

  Dallas Eye Prosthetics

  Our counselors

  Brittany’s and Shaun’s workplaces, for their flexibility and encouragement

  The Hope Center in Plano, Texas

  The people who kept Lauren’s professional life going when she wasn’t able to

  People who went out of their way to make us feel like we weren’t alone

  Bethany Hamilton for her sweet influence and involvement

  The third grade class from Prestonwood Christian Academy

  Those restaurants and businesses that supported us immensely

  We also thank all of you who are standing with us as we discover our new norm. We often sit around reminiscing with gratefulness over the love that was and is consistently being poured out on our family. We are overwhelmingly humbled.

  Notes

  1 Paul David Tripp, “Advent—Part 2: Awaiting an Advent” (message, The Village Church, Flower Mound, TX, December 3 and 4, 2011), http://www.thevillagechurch.net/sermon/awaiting-an-advent.

  2 See Luke 12:48.

  3 CNN, “Get Ready for Reruns: Writers Hit the Picket Lines,” November 5, 2007, http://www.cnn.com/2007/SHOWBIZ/TV/11/05/writers.strike/index.html.

  4 “Ann Demeulemeester Fall 2011: Black Mythology,” FashionWindows, http://www.fashionwindows.net/2011/03/ann-demeulemeester-fall-2011-2/.